Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System

Chapter 247 The Creator

A sigh left his lips as the exhaustion that plagued his body amplified upon realizing he had survived. It was a momentary sense of relief, hardly feeling accomplished quite yet as he looked directly ahead of himself.

Right there, a simple, white door sat, attached to no walls with no clue as to where it led. As he grasped the handle, he stood there for a moment, looking down at his calloused hand, watching the mixture of blood and sweat drip from his face.

["Is this it? Did I do it? I can't help but feel like this isn't the end yet–this uneasiness."]

Turning the handle, he opened the door slowly, carefully revealing what laid between the thresholds. It was a sight into the bare cosmos; drifting stars, expanding nebulae, all across an infinite, black canvas.

"--"

He placed one foot past the door, stepping through. The door was gone the moment he entered the nebulous place, glancing back to find no exit. He stood on the black matter of the universe, staring at the great, cosmic expanse as stars drifted, larger than life in the distance.

"Welcome, Finn," a voice greeted him. "You have survived the apocalypse."

What he found standing there near him was a humanoid presence, though far from a mortal being such as himself. Just seeing them, it invoked a feeling inside of him–meeting the one who made it all.

The four-armed man-resembling being of ethereal, sapphire skin stood there with a face vaguely familiar, though the entity was nobody he knew.

"You're…That face, it's…Sirius?" Finn recalled, staring at the transcendent being.

A small smile was perched on the entity's lips, "You remember him, too? That man was a remarkable one–he gave me the gift of humanity. As such, I've chosen to honor his memory, taking on his form."

"Who are you, then? You're the one responsible for all of this, aren't you?--" Finn asked, feeling his blood run hot in his veins at the mere thought of it.

The being resembling Sirius slowly nodded, "I am simply the Creator; nothing more. Everything you've seen, I have crafted, woven with my hands."

"Nothing more?!"

Finn couldn't hold himself back at those hollow words, lunging forward without any care if the being was god or not. He grasped the astral collar, bringing himself face-to-face with the cosmic existence.

"--You…They're all dead because of you! Everybody! All of those horrible things–it's you!" Finn forced out, remembering it all as he shook his head, feeling it all flood out. "Why? I just don't get it–what did I do to deserve this?"

"You're in pain; I understand that. Grief, sorrow…These are concepts I now understand," the Creator softly spoke. "For whatever it means, I'm truly sorry."

"Sorry?" Finn let go, stepping back as he shook his head. "Sorry doesn't cut it. You can't understand–there's no way you could. I don't want to hear that."

As he stood there, he stared down at the dagger between his quivering fingers. A part of him, a strong one, wanted to plunge it into the transcendent one's neck, no matter what the futility or consequences of it may be.

"...I see I've offended you. I understand the error of my words," the Creator corrected itself. "Finn, you asked the reason for all of this."

"--" He stood there, waiting for the answers he sought all this time.

The meaning behind the immeasurable bloodshed, the destruction of worlds, the trampling of his very own soul–he needed to hear why. He waited as the blackened universe sat in silence, seeming to listen in as well while the cerulean star above glistened.

"The truth of it is, the start of the apocalypse was begun by my own misunderstanding. I believed humanity needed a clean slate, to start anew, however…" The Creator explained. "I met a man that showed me the value of humanity–the concept I had overlooked."

"--" He listened, though he didn't know what he'd hear.

"After realizing my error, I have repurposed the meaning of the apocalypse. You are that," the Creator admitted.

"I'm that? What're you talking about?" Finn asked.

The transcendent being turned to face the blackened cosmos, at the distant, glistening stars, now few and far between, "I have decided that I no longer wish to oversee creation. I want to experience it myself–the life of a human."

"What?" Finn questioned further.

"The Assimilation System you possess. Kill me and assimilate my power," the Creator instructed him calmly. "With that, you will be able to recreate everything as you see fit. Those you lost, the life you wished for–it can all be yours again."

None of it seemed entirely real, a far-fetched grace that almost came off like a joke. Yet, from the lips of the ethereal existence, it hardly seemed to be a jest.

"Kill you…? Use your power?" Finn repeated, trying to understand it. "Why? I don't get it?"

"There are many things I still don't understand. I believe those answers lay in a new perspective, new experiences–becoming human is that way," the Creator explained, placing a hand over his own heart, wherever it may lay.

"Why don't you just do it yourself?" Finn asked.

"I do not possess that ability. Souls are…an enigma, even to me. A creation beyond my reach. However, I believe a human like you, so rich in emotion, with my power, will be able to manipulate it," the Creator spoke to him. "That's my request for you. Please reincarnate my soul on Earth–as a person."

It sounded strange coming from the god-like being, standing there in the bare cosmos alongside it. The thought of it was enticing, thinking of just what wielding that authority meant. In his mind, he saw it–the smile of Charlotte, the laughter of Damian, the presence of his friends, the return of those lost.

His heart ached just imagining it, unable to restrain the tears from welling up in his eyes.

"They…I can bring them all back?" Finn asked, gripping his own coat.

"You can do whatever you wish, once you've assimilated my power," the Creator assured him.

Looking down at his dagger, the reflection of the cosmos glimmered against the dirty steel, having the shine of the faraway stars twinkle against his eye. It was the path he had wished for, more than anything else–right there.

["Everything can be brought back. That's all I want. Is it that easy?"]

He approached without a second thought, squeezing the handle of the weapon that had brought him this far, bringing his boot down against the bare cosmos. Memories flooded through his fractured mind, and even hopes for the future–memories not yet made.

Stopping in front of the ethereal being, he clenched his dagger, beginning to move his hand–

"There is just one thing you will have to do before beginning the process of creation once more," the Creator told him with a melancholic smile.

"--" Finn waited.

The transcendent one glanced back at the universe, staring at the darkness that lay where no stars dwelled, "--You will need to handle the Ravager. It has fed on most of the universe at this point. I'm afraid I'm insufficient at combat. However, with my power, you–"

"I'll deal with it," Finn promptly claimed.

"Right. I believe that you will, Finn Thorne. After all, there is none left in the great expanse of the universe as capable as you are," the Creator said with a warm smile. "Your presence here proves that."

Speaking to the being responsible for it all, he found it hard to hold malice towards it. When it spoke to him calmly, with a human smile, giving him the keys to what he wanted–all he could feel was gratitude.

"I'm ready," the Creator announced. "Take the reins."

–Nothing else needed to be said as the assassin plunged his dagger into the chest of the celestial existence. It felt as though he pushed his blade into the core of existence itself; a transcendent warmth, swirling with boundless years of life.

["The Art of Dying"]

He stared at the chest of the ethereal being, watching as the particles that made up its form began to unravel around the abyssal force oozing from his blade.

"I leave it all to you, Finn. You, who have survived through hell, I trust that the universe will be painted beautifully by your hands."

A soft touch caressed his head as he held the blade there, finding an unknown sadness in his own heart. As the dagger was carefully plucked out, the fragile threads holding together the transcendent one withered away.

["The Creator defeated."]

[Experience points: +999,999,999,999,999]

[Level [999] reached.]

[Assimilated ability from [The Creator]: "Authority of Creation"]